I live in Chicago, where I spend half the year freezing, and the other half of the year ecstatically happy because it’s warm.  There’s not a whole lot of in between.  I hate being cold, and have no tolerance to it, so once I can go outside without 19 layers and hand warmers, I spend as much time as possible with the windows wide open, enjoying the heat.  I also spend winter envisioning my perfect summer day.  What would I do on a day when I could do whatever I wanted?

My perfect day would absolutely begin with a couple hours at the dog beach, throwing tennis balls, letting the dog run off her crazy energy and watching the sun come up over the Lake.  Yes, I am one of those people who enjoys mornings, and I tend to wake up just before sunrise, whenever that may be.  Starting the day with sand and dogs and water is about as perfect a start to my day as I can imagine.

Coming back home with a happily exhausted dog, I dream of a huge mug of coffee and  sitting at the open window for a few hours of writing.   The fun kind of writing, where thoughts just flow onto the screen, and where there is no such thing as plot holes or dangling participles.

The afternoon would need to be spent at the ballpark, grabbing a seat in the Bleachers, soaking up the sun, the excitement, and that electricity that skates over your skin when you come out of the concourse for your first sight of the field spread out in front of you, glowing green with promise.  I have spent years going to the park with an idea that I will keep my own scorecard, and I do well for about two and half innings, keeping all the details of batting order, passed balls, line drives, catches, strikeouts……  At which point I shift my attention to the people around me, learning about them and where they are from, who they are at the game with, have they ever caught a ball, and – perhaps most importantly – how do they feel about ketchup on a hot dog.  By the end of the game, I’ve met interesting people, watched a great game, and, since we’re talking about my perfect day, have actually, finally, caught a ball.

There’s no better end to my day than a stroll up the block for some amazing barbacoa and a margarita on a secluded, flower-festooned patio, or a perfect burger and fries out at a sidewalk cafe with friends, as the sun goes down and the night owls come out bursting with energy and excitement for the evening ahead of them.

If you could envision a day when you could do anything you wanted to do, what would it be?